


Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

by Beshrew_My_Very_Heart



Series: Kurtofsky 10 Years Celebration [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, M/M, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27471094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beshrew_My_Very_Heart/pseuds/Beshrew_My_Very_Heart
Summary: Ten years ago, Dave Karofsky got a wedding invitation to Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson's wedding. He didn't go, but he resolved to put all those feelings in the past. He has a new life now, with strong ties to his community and family.So when his cousin asks him to take her and her boyfriend to a Porcelain Concert, he has no reason to say 'no'. He also has no idea what he'll find there.
Relationships: Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky
Series: Kurtofsky 10 Years Celebration [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997590
Comments: 15
Kudos: 41
Collections: Kurtofsky Week - Ten Year Anniversary





	Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

**Author's Note:**

> Day Eight (11/9) - In Ten Years  
> Kurt and Dave, ten years later. Ten years from when is up to you!

The stadium was packed for this concert, and Dave once again wished that Micah was anywhere in sight, so he could yell at her for dragging him out of the house to come here. His cousin had clung to him as her cool gay cousin, always easily manipulated into taking her to all kinds of concerts and events. She had insisted that this counted as classical music considering how old it was, before her and her boyfriend had vanished towards the bathroom, leaving him trapped near in the standing area of the audience, looking frankly ridiculous amidst the sea of leather and neon in his button up and jeans. 

The first thrums of the bass were loud enough that he felt it reverberating through his entire body, and the drum beat that followed made his heart kick into high gear. 

_ “Alright, alright _

_ Alright, alright _

_ Alright, alright, it's a hell of a feeling though _

_ It's a hell of a feeling though _

_ Alright, alright, it's a hell of a feeling though _

_ It's a hell of a feeling though,”  _

The voice came from the darkness of the stage, and then a spot light burst into life from the back, almost blinding Dave as he looked almost directly towards it. There was a screen that took up the centre of the stage, like a privacy partition, but the material was so intentionally thin, that Dave could make out the exact details of the body behind it from the hips up. Tall, thin and gyrating slowly against something. As the music kicked it up a further gear, the movement of the figure’s hips became more and more pronounced, until Dave had to snap his eyes away from what felt like a pornographic display.

Then, in almost an instant, the partition burst into flames, vanishing in a blaze of light, as the silhouetted figure turned to look over it’s shoulder. He was straddling a very simple chair black chair, and for a moment, Dave had a flash of the cabaret movie he had been forced to watch with one of his boyfriends. 

_ Who are these people? _

_ I just woke up in my underwear _

_ No liquor left on the shelf _

_ I should probably introduce myself _

The spotlight slowly dimmed as the figure sang, and Dave found himself staring at the strangely familiar form on the stage, moving even further forward, towards the front of the stage. The people seemed as enthralled as him as the figure moved his body in long sinewy movements, until suddenly he snapped his head towards the audience entirely, lifting one leg up in a move that looked like it straddled the line between sexy and painful so that he was sat in profile to the audience, arching his body backwards like a cat.

_ You shoulda' seen what I wore _

_ I had a cane and a party hat _

_ I was the king of this hologram _

_ Where there's no such thing as getting out of hand _

The figure stood up finally, and began to move towards the front of the stage, and Dave had finally made it towards the barrier. Despite not being able to make out much in the shadows, the guy had enough stage presence that Dave could swear they were looking into each other's eyes for a moment.

_ Memories tend to just pop up _

_ Drunk pre-meds and some rubber gloves _

_ Five-thousand people with designer drugs _

_ Don't think I'll ever get enough (don't think I'll ever get enough) _

The figure’s movements were... long and deliberate, but there was something sloppy about them too. But before he could focus on that, the music kicked up again, and suddenly there was the blinding strobe of coloured spotlights, that had Dave sink back for a moment as he caught flashes of leather pants that seemed to be more holes than fabric, and a shirt that could’ve practically been a fishnet. The hair was tall and brown, and the lips were pulled up into a lazy, somehow cruel smile. 

And as the stage was finally completely lit, Dave could finally tell where he recognised the figure from. The eyeliner and nose piercing were a distraction, as was the black ink that seemed to curl out of the leather pants and up his hip and stomach. But underneath it all, entirely unrecognisable, was Kurt Hummel.

_ Champagne, cocaine, gasoline _

_ And most things in between _

_ I roam the city in a shopping cart _

_ A pack of camels and a smoke alarm _

_ This night is heating up _

_ Raise hell and turn it up _

_ Saying "If you go out you might pass out in a drain pipe" _

_ Oh yeah, don't threaten me with a good time _

Dave tore his eyes away for a moment, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with the reaction he’d been slowly developing in his pants, as Kurt bounded around the stage, his body already glistening under the lights. And yet, Dave couldn’t help but have the brief thought of how cold it must’ve been before the stage lights came up.

He lost track of the lyrics as he turned his attention back to Kurt who had approached another section of the audience and was performing more directly for them, every movement screaming sexuality. He looked... Dave didn’t know how to describe it. He didn’t look bad. He looked hot, honestly, but there was something about him that was setting off a five alarm fire warning in the back of his mind. 

_ Bar to bar at the speed of sound _

_ Fancy feet dancing through this town _

_ Lost my mind in a wedding gown _

_ Don't think I'll ever get it now _

_ (Don't think I'll ever get it now) _

He hadn’t heard anything about Kurt in years. His dad was still a congressman, Dave knew that much, and Finn had married Rachel and was out in New York teaching. But the line about the wedding gown made Dave’s eyes scan the stage nervously. Where the hell was Blaine Anderson? The two of them had gotten married, and now Kurt was- 

Kurt was moving back towards centre stage, and as he went back into the bridge or the chorus or whatever, huge gouts of fire erupted from canons above the stage into the air, as the stage exploded into glitter and confetti. He threw himself around the stage, dancing with the members of the band for a few moments, before he drifted back towards the centre of the stage.

_ I'm a scholar and a gentleman _

_ And I usually don't fall when I try to stand _

_ I lost a bet to a guy in a Chiffon skirt _

_ But I make these high heels work _

_ I've told you time and time again _

_ I'm not as think as you drunk I am _

_ And we all fell down when the sun came up _

_ I think we've had enough _

Dave watched as Kurt went through some clearly choreographed steps, but there was a sudden blankness of his face, and Dave could see that he wasn’t focusing on the crowd anymore. The song continued as Kurt moved towards the front of the stage, singing along with the song, but staggering worse than he had been for the rest of the song. Dave watched in mute horror as Kurt’s foot dragged along the ground and he could see him losing his balance. He acted entirely on instinct, leaping over the small fence easily, and launching throwing his arms out like he was catching the most important football of his life. Kurt slipped off the edge of the stage and straight into Dave’s arms, and Dave could feel how light he was.

Already people were swarming towards him, and the music cut out immediately, as security guards pulled out tazers and aimed them at him, shouting conflicting orders at him as Kurt looked up at him with a dazed, bemused look. 

“Everyone back off!” Another familiar voice roared, and Dave looked to the side as a familiar man shoved one of the security guards away. He never thought he’d be happy to see Noah Puckerman moving towards him. “Karofsky?”

“Puckerman,” Dave gave him a sharp look.

“Hummel,” Kurt said with a small laugh, “It’s like a dumpster reunion.” He reached up and put a hand on Dave’s cheek, “You grew up handsome.” 

“Alright, let’s get him backstage.” Puck rolled his eyes, gesturing the direction to Dave before tapping his ear, “Eliot, you and the band keep playing. He’s fine, he’s just drunk, or high, or whatever. Again.” 

Dave let himself be guided backstage and into a green room where he was able to put Kurt down on a couch, and take a step back. Medical personelle came in and started checking Kurt over, under Puck’s watchful gaze. Once they gave the all clear, Puck relaxed a little and sank into an armchair.

“Everyone out, except Hummel and Karofsky. Now!”

People jerked into movement, and moments later it was the three of them alone in what had to be a soundproofed room as the sounds of the band faded to nothing. Puck gave it a beat before he sank even lower into the chair and shook his head. “Karofsky, you’re about to hear something I never wanted to say...” He said, his voice quiet and Dave sank into the chair next to him. “I need help.” 

“Puck, what’s... What’s going on?” He asked, putting his hand lightly on Puck’s shoulder. “Let me help.”

“It’s Hummel! He’s completely off the rails!” Puck gestured frantically, “I don’t know when the last time he called his dad was. He doesn’t talk to anyone any more, not even Finn and Rachel. I don’t think I’ve seen him sober in days. I’m just putting fires out left and right, but...fuck, Karofsky, I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“What happened?” Dave asked quietly. “Where’s Blaine?” 

“Oh, you’re so out of the loop, David,” Kurt laughed bitterly, his eyes snapping open again, and then his tone turned softly lyrical.

“ _ He was always trying to find himself _

_ He'd go out every night looking for himself _

_ And on the way _

_ He found Ron, Gary, Sebastian and Chandler _

_ I guess you could say we broke up _

_ Because of artistic differences- _ ” 

“After the divorce, Kurt started singing in bars with Eliot. He had a major blowout with Burt and Carole, and over the years he just stopped replying to anyone. When he started going on tour, he needed someone to watch his back, and I was between jobs.” Puck explained quietly, “I don’t know when the drinking started, or the drugs, but...” 

“Why haven’t you called Burt or Finn?” Dave hissed, as Kurt seemed to bat at something in the air that wasn’t actually there. 

“Because I’m an adult, and he works for me,” Kurt muttered, “If I want to drink away my problems, that’s entirely my prerogative. Why are you even here, David?” 

“Because I’m worried about you. I know we haven’t talking in-” 

“Years,” Kurt muttered, and then tilted his head to sneer at Dave, “I meant, why are you at a Porcelain concert. It’s not exactly your speed is it?” 

“I came with my cousin. She’s a teenage rebel.” Dave said, narrowing his eyes. “She’s young enough to be making bad decisions.” 

“Unlike me?” Kurt shook his head, “Where do you get off judging me, Karofsky? After everything you did to me.”

That hurt, but Dave was used to not letting it show on his face by this point. It was almost funny, it was something he’d developed by emulating Kurt’s reaction to the bullying, and now he was using it on Kurt. “You’re a mess.”

“Yeah, well, I’m glad I can be entertaining,” Kurt looked away, reaching up to rub his eyes with the back of his hand, leaving smudges across his face. “You can run back to your husband and kids, and I’ll continue to spiral.” 

“What do you mean, husband and kids?” Dave asked, and Kurt shot him a dark look.

“Your big plan for the future. You were going to be a sports agent?” 

“Oh, I... didn’t do that.” Dave shrugged, “I’m an accountant for a big LGBTQ charity. The work is a lot more rewarding.” 

“Oh-” Kurt blinked and narrowed his eyes, “You gave up?”

“I changed. People do that, you know?” Dave shook his head, “I’m doing my best to make sure that kids don’t grow up like I did.” 

“Fine, we get it, you’re a saint-” Kurt scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically, and then clutching his stomach before he rolled onto his side and vomited all over the floor.

“Alright, you know what? Fuck this,” Dave threw his hands up, before he pulled out his phone, “You’re not  _ my  _ employer.”

“What’re you doing?” Puck asked nervously, but he was already moving to Kurt’s side to make sure he wasn’t going to choke.

“What someone should have clearly done years ago.” Dave muttered, as the phone rang in his hand.

_ “David? It’s like... 10 at night. Shouldn’t you already be asleep?”  _ Santana’s tone was light and joking, but he could hear the slight confusion and concern behind his voice.

“Hey, San. I need Finn’s number. It’s an emergency,” Dave said, keeping his voice steady as Puck’s back clearly tightened. 

_ “We’re talking an actual emergency?”  _ Santana’s line suddenly got quieter, and then she stood up.  _ “Is someone dead?” _

“Ask me that in the morning.” Dave muttered, “Puck, can you get some of your security guards to see if they can find my cousin and her boyfriend? I’m supposed to be watching them.” 

_ “You’re with Noah Puckerman?”  _ Santana sounded confused,  _ “Why doesn’t he have Finn’s number?” _

“Because I can’t ask him for any help right now, without fucking him over.” Dave muttered watching as the other man spoke into a walky talky for a moment and then gave him a thumbs up before returning to Kurt’s side. “Look, San. I’m like... five minutes from calling my boss and asking if he can get hold of the congressman for Ohio.” 

_ “Fine, let me just get Brit’s phone,”  _ Santana muttered, and there was some murmured conversation,  _ “Alright we’re just checking it’s still the right- Yeah? Alright. Okay, I’m sending you the number now, Finn’s expecting your call.”  _

“Thanks San,” Dave huffed out a breath, “I’ll explain everything tomorrow.” 

_ “You better. But I’m always willing to help out my favourite ex.”  _

Dave muttered another goodbye, before putting down the phone and calling the number he had received. It barely got through the first ring before someone picked up the other end. “Finn?” 

_ “Karofsky? What’s wrong, Brittany said it was an emergency.”  _ Finn’s voice sounded sleepy, and there was the sound of someone trying to soothe a crying baby in the background.

“I’m backstage at one of Kurt’s concerts. He was so drunk he fell off the stage. He needs help, and nobody here can ask for it. So I need you to put on your big boy pants and come fix this bullshit.” Dave snapped, a ball of worry building in his guts. Kurt made a pathetic noise, and Dave’s eyes shot to him in concern. 

_ “Puck’s with him. He wouldn’t let him get like that-”  _

“Kurt is Puck’s boss, Finn! What’s he supposed to do? Lock him in the hotel room?” Dave rubbed his face, “Look, I’m nobody in this. Someone needs to come down here and do the work before nobody’s there to catch him the next time.” 

_ “Yeah? I mean, yeah. Of course. I’ll call Burt, we’ll get down there tonight.”  _ Finn’s voice mumbled something and somebody replied in the background.  _ “Thanks Dave.”  _

Dave shook his head, and put the phone down. “There. I’ve called in the cavalry. Finn’s got my number, so let me know if you need anything, alright?” He put a hand on Puck’s shoulder and the other man nodded sharply, tears obviously at the corner of his eyes. “Hey. You did your best dude. But you don’t have to do it alone.” 

“I-” Puck swallowed, and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Let me go see if they found your cousin, alright?”

“Sure.” Dave nodded solidly, and let Puck push past him and out of the room, before he crouched next to Kurt. “I... don’t know how much of this you’ll remember, Hummel, but... it’s never too late to change your path. You taught me that, that I didn’t have to be a ‘late in life’ gay like Santana said I would be. That I didn’t have to just... carry anger around with me everywhere. You’re about to have a lot of friends who want to make sure you’re okay, but if you ever need a safe place...I’ve got a house that’s way too big, and a lot of free time.”

Kurt let out another pathetic noise, and Dave carefully brushed some of the sweaty hair out of his eyes before he stood up again. Puck returned a few moments later, and Dave gave him one last shoulder pat before he stepped out into the cold.

“You know Porcelain?” Micah insisted as he walked them back to his car. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re cool?” 

“Micah... I’ve never met Porcelain before in my life. But... let me tell you about who I was in high school and the kid who helped me out, okay?” 

***

**_Months later_ **

"Come on, Sophie," Dave murmured, picking the ball of white fur up from under the bed and cradling her in his arms as he stood up, "You know the rules about the guest room."

Sophie, as always, just gave a small look and then began kneading his chest with her paws. Dave sighed indulgently, petting her softly as he heard the doorbell ring. He tried to put Sophie down as he passed by the front room, but she dug her claws into his shirt and held on tight, so he was forced to continue holding her as he opened the door.

Kurt Hummel looked at him, clearly nervous, though as his eyes darted to Sophie a small smile tugged at his lips. “Hi.” 

“Hi?” Dave quickly looked him over, a small bead of tension uncurling as he took in the simple skinny black jeans and soft looking t-shirt. Even the small nose stud was gone, and Dave could see a small suitcase hidden behind Kurt’s leg.

“So... eight months ago, you said that if I ever need a safe place...” Kurt said, chewing his lips a little in nervousness, and Dave had the instant instinct to hug him.

“How did you find where I live?” He finally asked, and then winced as Kurt’s face turned a little more withdrawn.

“Your very handsome neighbour.” 

“Sam,” Dave nodded, looking out of the door briefly towards Sam’s home. It had been sheer coincidence that they’d both ended up living on the same street, but it was nice to have someone he could invite over every so often. “Why aren’t you staying with him?” 

“He’s my next port of call,” Kurt shrugged, “but he hovers, a lot, and I’m already going to have to see him almost every day. I thought... well, you’ve already seen me at my worst.”

“You’re right about the hovering, he takes ‘good neighbour’ as a challenge,” Dave muttered, and stepped back, “Come in, please.” 

“Thank you,” Kurt said, pulling his bag after him and stepping into the living room. Dave watched nervously as Kurt’s eyes scanned the room, and he waited for him to say something scathing about it, but instead he just smiled warmly. “Reminds me of mine and my dad’s first house.” 

“Oh,” Dave nodded, petting Sophie absently to soothe himself, “So...why Ohio? Why Lima?” 

“Well, if I’m in Washington with my dad, every story about him is going to be about his adult gay son with the substance abuse problem. Finn and Rachel let me stay with them for a while, but they have not learnt to have less drama with age.” Kurt’s tone was light and breezy, but Dave could feel the tension behind the words. “One of my dad’s provisions for me not going to Washington was that I live with one of my ‘stable’ friends.” 

There were too many questions there, and the one that came out of his mouth wasn’t the best one, “You think of me as a friend?” 

Kurt gave him a look, and then nodded, “I do.” 

“Well... you can stay as long as you need.” Dave reached out and touched his arm, “let me show you the guest room. I was going to make lasagne for dinner, sound good? You didn’t become a vegetarian when I wasn’t looking?” 

“Despite Rachel’s best efforts,” Kurt shook his head and gave Dave a small, genuine smile, “Lasagne sounds wonderful. Can I help?” 

“You should get settled in first,” Dave started up the stairs, “You’re not allergic to cats are you? Sophie gets everywhere.” 

Kurt shook his head, and let himself be led up to the guest room. Dave watched as he looked around the room for a couple of moments, before he stood awkwardly in the centre of the room, bag at his feet. “It’s very kind of you to do this for me. I’m going to pull my own weight. I just-” 

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Kurt.” Dave assured, “Unpack, have a shower, do whatever you need to do. I’ll cook dinner, and then we can work out what’s next.” 

***

**Months later**

“I have a sudden and profound respect for April Rhodes not murdering us all in Sophmore year,” Kurt grumbled, as he tapped away at his laptop. “Kids are the worst, David.” 

“That’s not a good tact to take if you’re training to be a teacher,” David said casually from the couch, saving the spreadsheet and looking up at Kurt with a small smile, “don’t let Will hear you say that.” 

“Maybe I should give up on it and buy a roller rink.” Kurt muttered, stretching his arms over the back of his chair and arching his back to stretch. “Marry rich.” 

Dave wanted to make a joke about how both of them were relatively well off, but his brain was completely distracted as Kurt’s shirt pulled up from his jeans a little, and he caught sight of the flash of black ink on pale skin. His mouth was suddenly dry, and he couldn’t drag his eyes back to the laptop until Kurt shifted again. 

“Seriously, who doesn’t know Rent? It’s a seminal classic. There are gay kids in that Glee Club, Dave. They need to know their history! And if I’m going to be helping Sam, it’s going to be my job to teach them that.”

“Maybe you should perform something from it?” Dave said, swallowing and looking back to his computer.

“Oh, I was ready to bust out ‘Out Tonight’ on a moment’s notice. The issue is where I would fall on the scale of ‘Shuester’s Toxic’ to ‘Holiday’s Do you want to touch me’.” Kurt shrugged, “I’m trying to be much more appropriate than Mr. Shuester ever managed to be.” 

Dave nodded to himself, and the two of them lapsed into silence for a while, before Kurt huffed and closed his laptop. 

“Why don’t you date?” 

Dave’s eyes shot up from his laptop to find Kurt staring at him, “What?” 

“You never go out. You never bring anyone home. Why don’t you date?” 

“I...” Dave frowned, “don’t want to?”

“Well, if you wanted to, I’d take you to Scandals. Or somewhere less depressing.” Kurt said, looking back to his laptop. “If you wanted to.” 

“I got all my barfly days out of my very early. I like curling up on the sofa and reading, or cooking, or watching Netflix.” Dave shrugged, “if you want to go hook-up with someone, you can. You can bring them home too, as long as you give me fair warning to put on some headphones in my room.” 

He’d meant the last part as a joke, but Kurt had got a strange look in his eyes before he’d even said the funny part. 

“Home?”

“Yeah. Here?” Dave glanced around, “Unless you’ve been sneaking out of the window to live at Sam’s when I go to sleep.” 

He didn’t know what part of what he said set Kurt off, but a moment later he had an armful of Kurt, as the slimmer man tried to hug him to death. He carefully put the laptop aside, and began to rub soothing circles on Kurt’s back as he felt the soft tremors. He didn’t ask anything, just let Kurt not quite cry into his shoulder for a minute, before the boy pulled back. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, no need to be sorry,” Dave said softly, “You know I’m a hug machine these days.” 

Kurt managed a small smile, and then tipped back so he was sitting on the floor. In moments, Sophie was in his lap, kneading his thigh as she got comfortable, and Kurt absently stroked her. “I... I haven’t had a home in a few years. Couch surfing or hotels mostly. I guess it just hit me... how domestic this situation is.” 

“Really?” Dave asked, offering a small smile. “You’re sitting with my cat in your lap, after we just made stir-fry. We’re pretty domestic already.” 

“It wasn’t like that with-” Kurt gave a humourless laugh, cutting himself off, “We argued a lot. He always had to be right in the end. It’s... coming up on the wedding anniversary. 10 years.”

“I didn’t realise,” Dave said softly, “I like having you here. And honestly, I can’t imagine always being right. That sounds totally insufferable.” 

“I’m sure it’s made it back to him that I fell apart,” Kurt muttered, “Sam’s under strict rules not to tell him where I am, and I changed my number at least three times since he last had it. I can’t deal with him saying I told you so.” 

“Well, you know, screw him. He always played things way too safe. You always pushed the envelope, and tried to do the most amazing stuff. You just didn’t have the right support system last time. But now we’re all here. Your family will always be on your side.” 

Kurt gaped at him for a moment, and then carefully extricated Sophie from his lap before he surged forwards and Dave opened his arms ready for another hug. Kurt bypassed that all together and Dave’s entire field of view was taken up by Kurt’s face, as he felt lips on his own, his hands closed around Kurt’s shoulders.

He lost track of time, and really anything other than skin, and pressure, and just  _ Kurt.  _ And then suddenly, he was jerking awake in bed as Kurt quietly moved around the room. For a moment, David’s heart dropped. “You’re sneaking out?” 

“I’m folding our clothes,” Kurt shot back, holding up the jeans he had been wearing the night before with a small grin, seemingly entirely nonplussed by his complete nakedness. “You have to treat them well.” 

“Oh...” Dave said, and shifted in the bed. “Are you... are we going to talk about...?” 

“Later,” Kurt shrugged, and finished putting things aside. Dave nodded slowly, and he must have had some kind of look on his face because when Kurt turned back towards him, he went from smug to concerned. “No, Dave, I mean it. We’ll definitely talk about what happened. I’m not blowing you off. But it’s five in the morning, and you should sleep.” 

“I don’t think I’m going back to sleep,” Dave sighed. 

“Then... let’s have this conversation.” Kurt muttered, and moved to sit on the furthest edge of the bed. “This was a mistake.” 

Dave took a sharp breath that felt like ice. “Oh.” 

“I’ve not been particularly good to myself for the past few years.” Kurt admitted after a moment, looking up at the ceiling. “I got used to just... wanting things and taking them. And it turns out I’m just as good a singer as I thought I was. I made a lot of money, I had people willing to sell me things that numbed the pain, and it turns out that the whole groupie thing I used to mock the straight boys about? Well, that can feel great when you’re lonely and not thinking straight.” He paused, and turned to Dave. “After you came to see me, with the help of Puck and Finn, and my dad and everyone, I decided it all needed to stop. No more drinking, or drugs, or wild nights of debauchery. And for the past few months, I’ve achieved that.” 

“I don’t understand-” 

“I like you Dave. I like this stability, I like how you don’t let me get away with things, but you don’t judge me either. And it was really easy to give in to what I wanted last night, because... You are a very attractive man. But I don’t want sex to ruin our friendship.” 

Dave frowned, considering for a moment, “You have sex with your friends?” 

“I did. I also had sex with my enemies.” Kurt shrugged, “My dad once told me that I shouldn’t throw myself around. And I don’t want to do that with you. The.... throwing myself around, I mean. The sex was very good. But I can’t have meaningless sex anymore.” 

“Was it meaningless for you?” Dave shifted until he could see Kurt’s face.

“Obviously not, otherwise I wouldn’t be upset about it David.” Kurt shook his head, with a pained looking smile. “But I shouldn’t have been trying to seduce you.” 

“You were trying to seduce me?” Dave said, grinning, “Sorry, let me rephrase that, you think you have to  _ try  _ to seduce me?” 

“Well, you’ve probably had a lot of time to think of me in those ridiculously leather pants, so I had a leg up on the whole process-” 

“Kurt, I was attracted to you when you were a skinny nerd in high school, and it never stopped.” Dave shook his head, “You were my first kiss, and the star of a whole bunch of embarrassing dreams. The leather pants are hot, sure. But it’s you who I was in love with.” 

Kurt froze, his eyes going wide. “What?” 

“You heard me. I’m not going to stroke your ego.” Dave rolled his eyes, and finally slipped out of the bed, “Do you want it to be meaningless sex? Because I’ll let you pretend it is if you need to. But it meant a lot to me.” 

“I... I feel like I shouldn’t let it be something. I feel like I should go on at least one date with you before then.” Kurt muttered, “I should try and do the whole... romance thing. It’s been a long time since someone...” 

“Okay. I can do romance.” Dave nodded, and then let out a long yawn. “In the morning. Do you want to get back in bed?” 

“That feels like something I shouldn’t do.” Kurt said softly, looking at the bed. “If we’re going to try and make this all a thing.” 

“I’m not going to force you to.” Dave assured, “I don’t see the harm, but if you don’t want that, that’s fine.” 

Kurt thought for a moment and then stood up. “I’ll sleep in my own room. It’s not because I don’t want to, but it’s because I really want to, and I’m trying to navigate doing things I want without just doing... everything I want.” 

“Okay.” Dave nodded with more confidence than he really felt. “I’ll make breakfast tomorrow. You’re on Dinner duty.” 

“Your loss. My french toast is fantastic.” Kurt said with a small smile collecting his clothes and moving to the doorway. He paused there, and looked over his shoulder nervously, “You need to tell me if you’re not okay with this, okay? I’m not going into another relationship where I’m second guessing everything I do.” 

“Kurt, I will tell you if I do or do not want something,” Dave gave him a small smile. “I don’t want to play mind games either.” 

“Okay,” Kurt said, and gave him a small smile.

***

“You can’t just barge in there-” 

Dave had a moment to look up from his laptop before his front door burst open, and Blaine Anderson stormed into his house looking around frantically. Almost immediately after him was Sam, wearing his red coach shirt and looking for all the world like he wanted to pick Blaine up and bodily carry him from the house.

“Kurt! Kurt!” 

“Yeah, hey, can I help you?” Dave asked, narrowing his eyes and putting the laptop aside.

“Where’s Kurt?” Blaine turned his attention towards Dave suddenly. “I’ve been calling him and calling him.” 

“I’m not his keeper, Anderson.” He snapped the words, and Blaine flinched a little before pulling himself up to his full height, squaring his shoulders.

“You both know, you’re just not telling me.” 

“Even if that were true, you gave up any right to know where he was when you divorced him.” Dave stood up slowly, aware of the menacing vibes he was giving off. “A decade ago. It’s a little late to try and walk that back now, don’t you think?” 

“Dave, I’m sorry. One of the kids must’ve mentioned it to one of the alumni, and-” Sam looked genuinely upset, and Dave shook his head.

“It’s fine Sam. Anderson, if you want to leave a message for Kurt, I’m sure one of us can get it to him.” 

“I can’t leave a message. I’ve come to win him back.” Blaine insisted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a ring box to wave frantically. “It’s my last chance to show him how much he means to me-” 

“Wasn’t that chance before you slept with Sebastian Smythe?” Dave rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. The stage opportunities are drying up for you now, right? You’re ready to settle down? And you expected Kurt to be sitting around waiting, whilst you orchestrated some adorable hallmark movie moment of reconnecting.” 

“You wouldn’t understand, David.” Blaine sneered, “Rachel told me that Kurt has ‘fallen in love’ with someone. I have to take this chance before it’s gone.” 

“I... wouldn’t understand?” Dave couldn’t help but smirk. “Really?”

“Kurt’s in a fragile place. He needs what we had-” 

“He needs stability. He needs people who he can rely on, and who tell him how they’re feeling instead of being super passive agressive.” Dave shook his head, “this isn’t high school, Anderson. This is the real world.” 

“Alright, Blaine, you need to leave.” Sam muttered, reaching forward and grabbing Blaine’s shoulder. “I’ll tell Kurt you came by.” 

“It’s you.” Blaine said softly, letting Sam pull him a few feet away as he stared at Dave, and then digging his heels in with a sharp, ugly laugh, “How pathetic is that? You’re still obsessed with the gay kid you couldn’t have in high school. And he’s going to date a guy who said he would kill him, because he’s punishing himself.” 

“Get out of my house, now.” Dave snapped, and Sam dragged Blaine out through the threshold apologising profusely. Dave slammed the door behind them, and locked it before he rested his head on the wood and took a few calming breaths.

“He’s wrong, you know?” Kurt’s voice came from the top of the stairs, and he turned to see the other man sitting on the top step, his face a mask of calm which only made it easier to see the fury underneath if you knew what to look for.

“I’m sure he is, but you’ve gotta be more specific.”

“About you. Or... about me and you. I don’t want to date you to punish myself. And that’s not my hesitancy either.” Kurt looked down at his knees and folded his hands in-between them like he was trying to keep warm. “I’m hesitant because I don’t... I don’t know if I deserve you. This. Being happy.” 

“That’s not how it works,” Dave said, moving to the bottom of the stairs and looking up. “Nobody deserves emotions. They just happen. We just have to decide day by day if we’re going to listen to how we’re feeling.” 

“I can’t believe he brought a ring. That was really desperate.” Kurt said after a moment, with a small snort, “Why is his go to plan marriage?” 

“I doubt we’re going to have much privacy down here today. Do you...want to take a drive?” Dave offered quietly. Kurt considered for a moment, and then nodded, standing and walking down the stairs. 

“Sure. I need to text Rachel and shout at her anyway,” He said, reaching the bottom, and grabbing his coat.

“Oh, yeah. What did you tell her about us?” Dave asked, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

“Who’s looking for an ego stroke now?” 

**Author's Note:**

> And that brings an end to my contributions for Kurtofsky Week. It has genuinely been a pleasure to write all these stories. I've found a new, welcoming community full of fantastic people. I've had a chance to flex some creative muscles, and I'm so glad that I did it. Thank you to all the people who have commented, or left Kudos. It's been amazing to wake up each day to this positivity.


End file.
